


1,000 Piece Jigsaw Puzzle

by SpicyCheese



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen, Let's just assume spoilers from any of the show- just to cover the bases, Prompt-fills and mini-fics, just a grab bag collection, lot of AUs in here because I love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/pseuds/SpicyCheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically just a place to deposit Tumblr prompt fills and mini-fics. Each chapter is a stand alone. A lot of it is Root x Shaw, but definitely not limited to that. Enjoy the grab bag of random :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After Bridge-Scene Fix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Tumblr user isagrimorie:
> 
> team machine, post-bridge scene: team + food.

 

 

*_*_*_*_*

 

It’s a short walk from the bridge to the diner. They file down the sidewalk like a sort of strange, silent parade. Harold leads the way, John at his elbow, keeping pace a purposeful half-step behind. Shaw and Root follow next, walking side by side, eyes continually surveying for threats but always returning to pause on the other before beginning their scan again. Lionel brings up the rear, something between relief and pride stirs warm in his chest as he joins the expedition.

The booth is technically a bit cramped with five but it feels comfortable.

A short while later, Finch moves his mug of hot tea out of the way of Fusco’s animated gestures, as the detective mocks the obscene number of creamers Root adds to her coffee. For her part, Root smiles silently like he’s giving her some sort of compliment, as she picks at her plate of biscuits and gravy. Shaw finishes off her side of bacon before moving on to Reese’s (“looks like you don’t need it” she adds poking the bit of pudge near his navel) and slurps her coffee loudly while she eyes her next target.

Besides Finch’s eggs over medium and Lionel’s corn beef hash, there are 4 other orders of pancakes on the table. Shaw doesn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that everyone just seemed to want pancakes for some reason- she just helps herself.

 

*_*_*_*_*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://spicycheeser.tumblr.com/).


	2. After Bridge-Scene Fix continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user Randolhllee: If you're still taking prompts, any chance you could extend that one-shot of the team eating together to when Root and Shaw split off to go home? Or however you think that would work. I'd love to see what your head-canon is for that :)
> 
> [Basically, a continuation of the prompt from last chapter]

 

 

*_*_*_*_*

The bridge made it better. Breakfast even more so. With every bad pun from Lionel, every  twitch of a smirk from Reese, and every muted sigh from Finch, it’s better. You feel the constriction in your chest loosen, your breathing deepen, your fists start to unfurl. Still, you play down the burning necessity of Fusco splitting a cab with you both (he was never in the simulations after all), and your utter relief when _Root_ is the one to tell the taxi driver the address.

(You don’t take your eyes off her once as you follow her. You don’t blink _once_ as she winds her way to the back of the alley, as she types in the code, as she makes her way down to their hide out.)

Despite the subterranean location, the small shuddering breath you take as you enter the Subway feels like you’ve come up for fresh air for the first time in months. You bury your nose in Bear’s scruff and it’s the closest scent to ‘home’ you could ever articulate.

You spend the next 45 minutes taking in every detail, walking the perimeter slowly. You know your actions are suspect, you know they’re wondering about you, but it’s necessary.

The boys stick around for a while, and their voices echo off the brick and cement, grounding you.  Fusco quips, Reese snickers, Harold hums in agreement. You circle the perimeter and Root stands stock still in the middle- the gravity keeping your orbit. As you finish your lap, you meet Root’s eyes once more and you feel that pull intensify.

Fusco is the first to pick up the change in atmosphere (it’s why you like him) and he clears his throat a bit too obviously before tugging John away with a flimsy excuse about paperwork. Finch lingers a few minutes longer, collecting his briefcase and hat. He’s almost to the exit before he turns back and looks at you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows roughly and you realize this is the first time he’s looked you in the eye, square on, since you returned. Something crackles behind the stoic facade, it waivers just lightly in his voice as he welcomes you home again. As he tells you that you were sorely missed. He takes whatever he withholds with him as he disappears up the stairs.

Now it’s just Root left here, in the Subway, and the space between you is too much and too little all at once. The idea of either of you closing it is overwhelming.

Root doesn’t approach you. She walks to the bench instead. She sits.

She waits.

You join her.

Palms flat on the wooden seat, pinky fingers brush each other lightly and both women keep their gaze forward, settling into the moment.  

One pinky laces over the other, and you don’t have to look to know she’s crying. You both stay that way for a long time, until hands eventually drift back to their owners, the last of that heaviness retreating with them.

“So,” she begins, the word clear and crisp, the small smirk she’s always reserved for you edging it’s way back in. “What happens next?”

 

*_*_*_*_*


	3. Morning Hangover Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user charmed352: 
> 
> Shoot Prompt: In the morning, A wakes up with a major hangover and turns over in their bed. Guess who they see beside them. B, laying on top of the sheets without a care in the world.

 

*_*_*_*_*

 

Blood pulses through her temples, each steady beat punctuated with a sharp pain. The thin strip of light that’s slipped through the damask drapes on the other wall of the safehouse is almost blinding, and while Root would like nothing more than to bury herself deeper in the soft depths of down comforter, a slight sigh from the mattress beside her buoys her to alertness.

Much to her surprise, it’s Shaw laying next to her. Body supine, she lies above the covers next to her, suspended in corpse pose, hands folded neatly over her stomach. Even asleep Shaw has the stillness of a hairpin trigger, like a cat stilled only momentarily before the pounce, or an action figure ready to come to life.

Root’s mouth tastes like turned-vinegar, tongue sucked dry by the poor choices from the previous night. Despite the Machine giving her up to the minute calculations of her blood alcohol level, she still attempted to go shot for shot with their target. The last thing she remembers is pushing their Number’s back  against the cool, concrete alley wall behind the pub- trying to woo the woman into… well now she’s not actually sure, it’s a bit hazy after that.

What Root _is_ sure of is that presently Shaw is laying beside her and has been for an indeterminate amount of time. (She’ll be kicking herself about those lost moments for the rest of the week, to be sure.. Root’s body protests loudly against any and all motion, but she pushes through so she can turn to face Shaw a bit more fully. A breeze from the window blows some of the smaller woman’s bangs into her face, and Root reaches out slowly, to brush them away.

Her hand is only a few inches away when Shaw’s snaps up and halts it. Root actually squeaks from surprise and Shaw’s fingers tighten their grip over her wrist just slightly.

Eyes still closed, the rest of her still laying still, Shaw’s words staccato evenly, almost in time with Root’s pounding head. “You were drunk and in over your head. I had to pull you out and was up the rest of the night because you wouldn’t stop puking.”

The question if Shaw lost sleep because she was holding her hair, or simply because noise kept her up, sits just behind Root’s teeth, but she thinks better of it. Her silence is rewarded when Shaw’s grip loosens, hand returning to where the other lies, still on her stomach.

Shaw’s eyes are still closed, but there’s a twitch of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Glad we understand each other. Now let me sleep.”

Root shifts further down in the comforter. She lays her pounding head back down gently and, in her mind, imagines tracing the silhouette of Shaw’s darkened profile against the light from the curtains behind her. After a moment she relaxes, feeling safe in the proximity to something so potentially lethal.

“Root?”

“Yes?”

“Stop staring.

 

*_*_*_*_*


	4. Sci-Fi Western AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Tumblr Prompt for Sci-Fi Western Root x Shaw.

*_*_*_*_*

 

 

“Root!” Shaw yells, ducking just in time as the blast of the monster’s ray gun grazes the top of her Stetson. “This is not the time to try one of your crazy inventions!”

Root hops down off her horse and begins to assemble the weird looking wooden trebuchet. “Shaw- beings from another World arrived an hour ago and are trying to destroy the human race. This is exactly the time to try this.”

Shaw returns fire over the fence. Bullets hit their mark but just seem to be absorbed in to their gelatinous torsos. 

She ducks again, pausing and reloading her six-shooters in one impossibly fluid, seamless movement. She watches as Root pours liquid into a waterskin canteen, places it in the holder and cranks the lever back back. She lights a wick to the canteen and Shaw barely has time to hit the dirt before the Root pulls the lever. The canteen launches over the fence, slamming into the group of oncoming beings. The blast from the explosion’s impact slams Shaw, sending her stumbling back into Root and knocking them both to the ground. 

The dusts settles, Root shifts from under where Shaw has landed ontop her. “I’d heard you had a reputation for being fast on the draw Deputy. I’m flattered.”

Shaw rolls her eyes before scrambling off her, and moving quickly to look over what’s left of the fence. There’s a lot to assess. The group of creatures lay in the middle of the street, in several pieces. Turquoise colored flesh and fluid forms a wide ring of spray, but Shaw’s more concerned about the last monster- currently almost out of sight, beating a hasty retreat back toward where its ship landed.

Shaw turns to Root, glares, “Your dumb thing only killed 5 of the 6.”

Root cocks an eyebrow, but smiles. “Your welcome.”

Shaw huffs and strides in front of her, quickly mounting Root’s horse. Root can’t help marvel at the feat every time she sees it- the chestnut mustang is twice Shaw’s height but short Deputy Sheriff always makes the assent look graceful. 

Shaw grabs the rifle from saddle holster with one hand and looks down at Root, black cowboy hat shading her eyes. “What do you say we hunt that last one down, give it a proper welcome to the planet?”

She leans down, extending a hand to Root and there’s something wicked about the way the light glints off Root’s incisors and the hilt to the knife in her belt. 

“I say, ‘Giddy-up’.” 

Root takes the hand and pulls herself up to sit in the saddle behind Shaw.

Shaw can’t help but smile as they speed off after the creature, dust beating a trail behind their horse. She reasons the fluttering of excitement in her chest is less about the way Root’s arms grip around body tightly and more to do with anticipation the battle about to commence. After all, it’s not every day you get to beat the shit out of some other-worldly villains, and she’s not about to let Root have all the fun.

 

*_*_*_*_*


	5. Cooking Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user Thought- : 
> 
> Prompt for you! Shaw getting to see Root in professional assassin/hacker mode (not necessarily actually planning to kill someone, but just that mindset, whatever you think that would look like)! Alternatively if you're feeling more fluffy, Root attempting to cook for Shaw and the likely disaster that follows.

*_*_*_*_*

 

“It’s fine.”

“It is _Not. Fine_.”

“I know how it looks but if you just give me a _few_ more minutes-”

“It’s been 2 hours.”

“Perfection takes effort and time.”

“You lost all hope of perfection about 50 minutes ago, at this point I’d settle for edible.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit.”

“You added 7 packs of yeast to that dough, you’re not supposed to boil brussels sprouts, and there is no such thing as Pumpkin Hamburger Soup.”

“But I-”

“- _Root_.”

She knows it’s a warning. She knows Shaw only uses that tone when she really means it. She knows, and yet- “With the right seasonings-”

“It’s. Over.”

Neither one breathes, the air feels heavy between them and the silence threatens on stifling, but it’s broken by the doorbell. The chime breaks Shaw’s trance and she heads to answer it.

When she returns, Root’s feeling of defeat is joined by a flame of betrayal.

“You ordered food?” She pouts for a moment before she reframes the question. “At what _point_ did you order food?”

“At the point where it was clear I should.” Shaw grins and tears into one of the bags. “And I used your credit card.”

Shaw shoves an overstuffed samosa in her mouth. She closes her eyes briefly, and Root can almost see some of the anger and frustration melt from the relief of it. The moment is gone though, and now she’s smirking at Root, chewing around her smirk. “Thanks for dinner.”

 

*_*_*_*_*


	6. Shopping for plates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user exerciseindisguise:
> 
> Shoot. Going plate shopping.

*_*_*_*_*

  

Root wakes to a clattering sound. Alone in bed, she shucks on her slippers and follows the sound to the Subway hideout’s makeshift kitchen area. (It’s basically a Tupperware bin of kitchen supplies, a hot plate on a stool and a mini fridge next to the sink.)

She watches with curiosity as Shaw, clad only in her underwear, tosses said Tupperware bin on the table with an aggravated growl.  "Shaw?“

” _What_.“ She huffs, staring at the contents of the bin.

“Something the matter?”

“Yeah, would it be too much to ask to have some real fucking plates and glasses down here…” She holds up the package of paper plates with disdain before tossing them on the floor, where they land with an anticlimactic * _FWAP*._  She stares at them for a moment, sighs, and returns to riffling through the bin once more.

Shaw has exhibited some interesting particularities since returning from her imprisonment with Samaritan but this was by far the oddest. “You’re upset… because we don’t have real dishes? Why?”

Shaw’s riffling stops short. It’s only a moment of strange hesitation before she mutters an almost embarrassed “Never mind” and stalks off. Root swears she hears her mumble something about _expectations_  before disappearing around the corner to their room.

She reappear moments later, pulling on a t-shirt. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

Root smirks (she loves when Shaw tries to order her around). “And where are we going exactly?”

“Bed, Bath, and Beyond? I dunno, some place with fucking plates, okay.”

Root raises an eyebrow. It’s 1am and she’s not sure what this itch about dishes is that Shaw needs to scratch but she’s game. She heads towards their room to change.

“Root,” Shaw adds, voice low and gravelly with something Root’s come to know well. “Wear that red shirt I like.”

 

*_*_*_*_*


	7. Fake dating to piss of the relatives AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user charmed352:
> 
> Prompt: I’m fake dating you to have someone to vent to on family gatherings while also pissing off my conservative uncle that I never liked.

*_*_*_*_*

 

Shaw absorbs the impact of Root’s ambushed kiss, head on. 

She’d love to say that the full moment of hesitation that passes before she pushes Root away, is more to do with the surprise of the action than the pleasure of it…

But she has to admit (to herself), it was hot.

Root stumbles back from the push, grinning, and suddenly the rest of the room comes back into focus. A quick glance around confirms that, yes, every single one of Shaw’s family members, maybe the entirety of the reunion, is staring at them. Shaw pans the room until she comes to Uncle Albert. His blotchy, sweaty cheeks quiver with self righteous anger and tAkins into account the blanched color of his skin, he may be on the precipice of a heart attack. 

_Justice_.

Shaw smirks and gives him a wink before Root grabs her arm and drags her out of the fray. She’s still smirking as they make their way out of the hotel's event room and to the back of the garden, bright strips of moonlight cutting shapes between rose bushes and topiaries.

“That was perfect!” Shaw whispers excitedly, sneaking a look back over her shoulder back at the the lights coming from inside the party. “That was _exactly_ the reaction I wanted _. Bigoted asshole_.” Shaw turns back to Root, fully content that her plan worked.“So, what do I owe you for this all again? $50?”

Root grabs a handful of Shaw’s shirt and shoves her back into the side of the arbor, pressing her body flush against the shorter woman. 

“I was thinking of a different sort of reward,” Root whispers, leaning down slightly so her lips brush Shaw’s ear.

This time Shaw’s moment of hesitation is significantly shorter. She turns her head to the side, meeting Root’s lips. 

_$50 saved is $50 saved_ , Shaw figures, working hard to repress and ignore the moan threatening to escape as Root’s hand slips down past her waistband. _And it’s just for tonight, so why not?_

Later though, as Root drives her over the edge, punctuating the pleasure with a painful bite to her neck, Shaw wonders which of them is getting the better deal.

 

*_*_*_*_*


	8. Huddling together for warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Tumblr user Thought- :
> 
> If you're still taking prompts, Root/Shaw cuddling for warmth? Bonus if it's Shaw who suggests it. Extra bonus if it's not even any sort of life-threatening situation, winter is just cold and the heating isn't great.

*_*_*_*_*

 

“Move.”

Root obliges, scooting over on the bench to make room for Shaw.

Snow is still coming down hard, blanketing the sea of pines around the abandoned firewatch tower. Root pulls the unzipped sleeping bag she found tighter around her shoulders. They were able to fix the station’s radio fairly quickly upon arrival and Reese should be showing with the forest rangers any minute, but they’ve been sitting in cold silence for an hour or so now.

Well, Root has been sitting- fairly comfortably too, in her makeshift shawl. Shaw has spent the last hour pacing and looking increasingly pissed off.

So it’s a bit of an unexpected surprise now as she lifts one of Roots arms and tucks herself under it, wordlessly scooting closer until her side is flush with Root’s. She pulls Root’s hand around her too, so the sleeping bag is pulled tight around their shoulders once more.

Root’s not sure if the little shiver that runs through is excitement or simply her body’s automatic response to the places where her warmth is touching Shaw’s cold skin- which is everywhere. ( _Everywhere_!) but movement doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Not a word,” Shaw grumbles, but contrary to the distant tone, she cuddles even closer into Root. ( _Closer_!)

Root honors the request but spends the next 45 minutes before Reese arrives, grinning like an idiot and thankful there’s still 6 more weeks of winter.

 

*_*_*_*_*


End file.
